And the Sun will Rise
by OKami-hu
Summary: Roy Mustang lost his sight in an accident and it's not sure if he'll ever be able to see again. Sergeant Major Fury, who's secretly in love with the colonel volunteers to take care of him. Will they come together? And what will happen to Mustang?
1. The Flames Erupt

**Disclaimer**: World & characters are the property of Arakawa Hiromu & Square-ENIX. However, the fic itself belongs to us (Lenihan & OKami). We have to stress that – sadly – we're not making any money from this.  
**Beta**: Kimmeh Shotau (We're grateful.)  
**Rating**: Chapter 1 is rated PG.  
**Pairing**: Roy – Fury. Support the military.  
**Warnings**: for chapter 1: some angst  
**OKami's Note**: Whee! I like co-authoring and I asked Lenihan if she'll work with me. And she said yes!! Writing this fic was so much fun!! XDD

Chapter 1: The Flames Erupt

_Whoever thought the sun would com__e crashing down  
My life in flames, my tears concrete the pain  
I feel the end, the darkest, deepest riverbed  
My book of life ain't complete without you here.  
_(Sweetbox: Everything's gonna be all right)

The black military car drove along the streets of Central city with a dignified speed. Lieutenant Hawkeye was a great driver; when Colonel Mustang had to go somewhere, he always asked the blonde woman to come along.

The Colonel sat on the front seat, gazing out on the window. Old memories ran through his mind; images flashed before him, painting a shadow on the canvas of reality.

Sergeant Major Cain Fury settled down comfortably on the back seat. He bowed his head back, closed his eyes and he was humming a slow song quietly.

Fury's murmur and the engine's roar lulled the colonel into a waking dream. His friend… his best friend passed away just recently, leaving a gaping hole in the black-haired man's soul.

He missed Maes.

But his visions were shattered by a loud sound; when the colonel blinked to the side, he saw a motorcycle closing on them.

Hawkeye narrowed her eyes as the guy in helmet and goggles signaled her to stop. She lowered the window and shouted out, slowing down a little.

"What?"

"Oil running!" The guy shouted back and Hawkeye stepped on the brake. They stopped so suddenly, that Roy nearly knocked down the windscreen and Fury almost landed between the front seats.

"What happened?" He asked on a frightened voice as he adjusted his glasses.

The rider stopped as well, took off his helmet and goggles and was staring at the car worryingly. Hawkeye opened the door and hurried behind the vehicle. Indeed; there was a thick trace of oil behind them. A sudden chill run down the Lieutenant's spine as she realized, what danger they were in.

"Hawkeye, what is the matter?" Roy questioned.

"The oil is running, Sir." The blonde woman saluted. "It's dangerous to go any further. I'll call a mechanic."

She went to the rider and bowed briefly.

"Thank you. It looks very bad; we could have died if you haven't noticed."

"Hey, anything for such a beautiful lady!" The guy smiled. "Do I have a chance to see you again and perhaps have a coffee with you?"

Hawkeye's face softened a shade.

"Tomorrow at eight in Café Veronica. And I'll pay."

The guy pulled out his briefcase hastily and handed a card to the woman.

"My number. If anything comes up, just call me." He smiled again, took his helmet, his goggles and drove off. Hawkeye pocketed the card and headed to the barbershop near them to make a phone call.

Roy in the meantime opened the door and walked round the car. He examined the oil-trace and nodded. It is a wonder that it didn't catch a spark and exploded. He glanced to Fury and smiled a little. The small soldier's hands were clasped on a silent prayer. Roy sighed. As an alchemist and a soldier, he never really believed in God. Although… Perhaps if he did, it would be easier now.

He remembered passing a candy-store he knew; the colonel liked sweets and they dropped in sometimes with Maes to buy something. Maybe… Gracia and Elysia wouldn't mind. It's a lame excuse but chocolate makes one happy, doesn't it…?

Not wanting to disturb Fury, he headed back to find the store. He never noticed the man in the long coat standing in the shadows of a little alley.

Fury whispered the final "amen" and looked up. The colonel was nowhere to be found; the small soldier scratched his head in confusion but then shrugged, leaned back and continued humming his song.

It was about lunchtime; there were only a few passer-bys on the streets. When the colonel headed back with a small box of chocolate, the vicinity seemed deserted save the man in the coat, who stood about three meters behind the car and in his hand…

Mustang dropped the box and raced towards the car shouting, "Stop!" but it didn't help; the burning match fell on the ground, igniting the oil. The colonel's eyes widened.

"FURY!! GET OUT, IT'S GONNA BLOW!!"

Time slowed down; the colonel seemed to float in the air. The car-door opened, and Fury launched out trying to get away from the vehicle. The man still holding the matchbox laughed like a maniac. Roy could only hope, Hawkeye heard his shout and understood and she won't step out of the shop. For now, Fury was in greater danger; the colonel caught up with him and maneuvered behind his subordinate, shielding him. Laughter echoed in the air…

And the next moment, the Hell broke free.

The explosion rattled the buildings and the barbershop's window shattered. The cloud of flames caught the maniac, burning his body to ashes and cinder. Blazing hot wind swept away the two soldiers with great force, throwing them into the air and to a wall.

The last thing Roy felt was a sharp pain in his skull and he blacked out.

Hawkeye stood up, shook the glass shards off of her uniform and ran out, calling for her comrades. The car was a burning wreck. People came out of the nearby buildings wanting to know, what happened; talking, shouting, crying was heard. Hawkeye shot a frantic look around.

She nearly jumped from joy as she spotted Fury and the colonel lying on the ground. She ran to them and dropped on her knees.

Fury's ears rang a little from the loud sound but otherwise, he felt quite all right. But as he turned to the colonel, his eyes widened from horror.

The tall dark man was motionless and a puddle of blood was spreading slowly under his head. After a moment of panic, Fury started to check on the injured man. The time Hawkeye reached them, he already knew, what happened.

"Lieutenant, call the ambulance! The colonel has a concussion!"

Hawkeye nodded and disappeared. Fury turned back to his superior and with trembling hands he swept the black bangs out of the pale forehead. Suddenly, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. As he turned, he saw a kid staring back at him.

"Is this yours?" The child asked and handed out a pair of black-rimmed glasses. Fury took them. He never noticed he lost his glasses. The left lens cracked, but apart from that they were intact.

"Thank you."

"Is he all right?" The kid pointed towards the colonel. Fury felt tears gathering in his eyes.

"I don't know yet."

Somebody fetched an extinguisher and began to put the fire out. The Police, the Fire Brigade and the Ambulance arrived ten minutes after.

Hawkeye put a hand on Fury's shoulder as the small soldier was watching the medics to put the colonel into the car.

"He'll be in the best hands."

"Thank God." Fury let out a relieved sigh and collapsed into the Lieutenant's arms.

* * *

Pain. That was the first coherent thought that crossed Roy's mind. His head throbbed and he felt as stiff as a board. A low grunt escaped from his lips when he tried to shift into a more comfortable position, sending more than a dozen different pains through his body.

"… God," he gasped hoarsely. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to lay motionless for a while. At least long enough until the pain had subsided and he was able to remember what exactly had happened.

It took a while longer before Roy realized something was terribly wrong. It was barely noticeable, though, since he assumed it was normal. The room in which he lay was enveloped in darkness, but he thought it was night and it was always dark at night. This darkness wasn't like the usual one, thought. It was closer to a perpetual darkness.

He put a hand in front of his face and waved it a bit back and forth. His mind registered the movement, but his eyes didn't. A slow panic crept into his heart as he pushed himself up, ignoring the agony caused by this action. His hand groped for the switch of a lamp – any lamp – and he turned the lights on as soon as he found one. Hoping for a miracle, reassurance that his inner fear was somehow misplaced, he waited for the room to light up.

But nothing happened.

He pushed the switch several times, unable to accept the obvious. No matter what he tried, thought, the blackness remained. He stared in horror in front of him as things fell together in place. The car… Sergeant Major Fury… The explosion. He had tried to save Sergeant Major Fury from the gas explosion. And it was that explosion that had turned him blind.

The blow was crushing. He was blind. He, Roy Mustang, was _blind_. He would never be able to do his work again; he would be forever dependant on others. Despair built up inside him and he wished he could cry. But that wouldn't satisfy the pain in his heart. Thus he remained sitting, apathetically staring in front of him, unable to shed a single tear.

Aimlessly, Cain Fury wandered through the halls of the hospital. Only two more days and he would be free to go back to his dorm. It would be at least better than staying here. Hospitals always slightly depress him, with all the wounded and ill people. Maybe that was what had driven him to learn about nursing the injured in the first place, in hope to help them getting better.

He walked through a familiar hall now and his eyes automatically searched for the familiar numbers. 218… his room. 224… the room of Colonel Roy Mustang, who had tried to save him from the explosion. Fury hesitated, wondering if he should enter the room. The doctor had told him the Colonel could wake up any minute.

He decided to give it a try and pushed the door quietly open. The young man regretted his choice almost instantly when he saw Mustang sitting right up on his bed. But the Colonel must have noticed him by now – there was seldom anything that escaped from Mustang's attention – so going back wasn't really an option.

"Um… Sir?" Fury asked softly. Mustang didn't react. "Sir?" Fury repeated as he drew closer to the dark man. "You shouldn't be doing that, sir. You're not completely recovered yet. It would really be better if you- sir?" Surprised, the young Sergeant Major glanced down at the hand that had taken hold of his shirt.

"Tell me, Sergeant Major," Mustang said in an unemotional voice, "is it day or night?"

"Eh? Um… it's day, sir," he replied dutifully while his heart beat faster under the touch of his superior. "Why did you want to know?"

Mustang's hand lost all power and fell limply beside him on the bed. "I see. Thank you, Sergeant Major." His voice remained frighteningly unemotional, but his face reflected his defeat.

Fury didn't need more to draw a conclusion.

"Sir?" He did his best to sound optimistic and reassuring. "You'd better lie down." He placed his hands on Mustang's shoulders and pushed him gently back down on the bed. Mustang did obediently as the young man told him, although Fury doubted he even knew what was said. When he looked at the deep charcoal black eyes of Mustang, he noticed that the usual spark had faded away and that they were dull and empty.

"Don't worry, sir," he told the older man. "Everything will be alright."

The door opened and a young doctor came in.

"Ah, um, Sergeant Fury, right…?"

"Sergeant Major," the small soldier corrected absent-mindedly.

"Oh, sorry. I see the colonel is awake? That's a good start." He stepped closer but his smile faded as he looked at Fury's face.

"What, is something wrong? Colonel, how are you feeling?"

No answer. The doctor leaned closer and checked Mustang's pulse.

"Pulse normal. Sir, what is wrong?"

Still no answer. The black eyes were empty, the handsome face held a distant expression of despair.

"Um, doctor… I think… I think there's something wrong…" Fury kept down his voice, it was barely audible. "…With his vision."

The doctor shielded the colonel's eyes from the light then took his hand away.

"Uh-huh. This is no good." He looked up at the small soldier. "His disoriented state is quite understandable, considering his moderate concussion. And it seems the hit on the back of his head affected the brain's vision center as well."

A pale hand's movement cut in, grabbing the doctor's coat.

"Doctor… What happened…?"

"You had an accident, Colonel. You suffered a moderate concussion and several bruises."

"Why can't I see?"

"Sometimes a concussion causes temporary or permanent impairment in one's vision…"

"When will I see again?"

The doctor opened his mouth then closed it. Fury knew, what bothers him. Doctors still had a lot to learn about the human body. The brain was a mystery to them and it was nearly impossible to predict, how long it would take until the patient recovers – if he recovered at all.

"We're not sure." The doctor spoke up. "It could be days, weeks, maybe a month. You have to be patient, Colonel Mustang. Please, rest now. I'll come back soon to make some tests."

The doctor dragged Fury out as well. The small soldier turned to him.

"Doctor, I attended medical courses. Is it really possible, that the Colonel won't be able to see again?"

The young man sighed wearily. For a moment, he looked like an old, tired professor.

"Yes, it is. We can't do anything, but wait. However, if there's no improvement in his state even after one month, he'll be probably…"

"Removed from the military," Fury whispered. He felt like the world would crumble around him. The Colonel… will be blind for the rest of his life? No, that's not possible. God can't allow that…

He felt a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up, he saw the young doctor smiling on him.

"I'm Philip Locke, by the way. Now, Sergeant Major, go back to your room and rest. Oh, and I'll get your glasses repaired."

Fury nodded with a smile but his heart felt cold.

* * *

"Roy? Roy, come on! What's keeping you? Don't you know how long I've been waiting here?"

Mustang blinked surprised at the familiar sound. "Maes?" he asked uncertainly. His penetrating gaze scanned the area, searching for the tall figure of his beloved. "Where are you?"

"I'm right here, Roy," Hughes laughed as he reached out to touch Mustang's shoulder. "You've taken your sweet time, haven't you? You were always the lazier one of the two of us." Two green eyes looked at him, twinkling with joy behind slim-framed glasses. "How's my little Roy doing?"

Mustang had been leaning against him, but that remark irritated him as usual. "I'm not much smaller than you are, Maes," he snapped.

Hughes laughed again. "You know, you look a lot like the young Edward when you react like that. But I prefer your black hair and eyes over the golden quality of our Fullmetal Alchemist. Besides, you're more mature than he is… even though there isn't that much of a difference."

"Oh, shut up, Maes." He pulled his lover closer for a long, rough kiss and the whole world seemed to explode when their lips touched each other. Feeling dizzy and light-headed, he finally broke off the kiss and he panted heavily.

Hughes smiled at him and ran a hand through Roy's black silken hair. "I guess that was worth waiting for," he joked. "I missed it, you know." He sank down on the soft carpet of grass and pulled the Alchemist next to him.

"Missed what?" Mustang said with a rueful smile. "My kisses or me?"

"Hmm," Hughes answered as he nibbled on Roy's ear. "Both, I think." Mustang leaned backwards, relaxing and enjoying the tickling touch of his lover. Everything seemed perfect and all his worries and stress from his job were far, far away.

"Roy, do you love me?"

"Hm?" Surprised, Mustang looked up. "Of course I do, you silly. You know I do. That's why we're here, right?"

"Look at me, Roy and answer my question again."

Wondering what kind of game this was, he turned his head towards Hughes and smiled as he looked deeply into those green eyes. "Maes… I-" The words stuck in his throat and the smile faded away from his face. Hughes' form seemed to dissolve into thin air and he saw a flicker of flames in the corner of his eyes. "What the…"

"Do you love me, Roy?" Hughes repeated. "Look at me and tell me if you love me."

"Maes, what's happening? Why is everything turning black? Maes? Maes?!" His lover was gone! Frantically, Roy groped around, trying to find Hughes. He couldn't see a single thing anymore, everything was black now – no, even darker than black. "Maes, where are you?"

"I'm right here, Roy," sounded hollowly behind him.

Mustang turned around. "Where? I can't see anything, Maes!"

"Right here, Roy… I'm right here… Right here… Right here… Right here, Roy…"

Roy bolted upright on the bed and nearly cried out as his body protested violently against the sudden movement. His shoulders hurt like Hell and the colonel whimpered in pain. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his back and another on his arm.

"What is it?" A melodious female voice asked frightened. "Are you in pain? Should I call Doctor Locke?"

"What… what?" Roy panted. "Black… everything is so black; I can't see a damn thing…"

"Ssh, calm down. Your eyes don't work now, that's why you can't see." The female voice was warm, reassuring. "You had a nightmare but it's over now. I'm right here."

"Maes… I saw Maes… But then, everything went black…"

Roy heard a soft sigh and gentle hands pressed the colonel down to the bed and they caressed his forehead.

"It's all right now, calm down. It's okay. It's over. Try to sleep, hmm?"

"I… It was a dream."

"Yes, yes."

The colonel sighed deeply.

"You're a nurse, right?"

"Yes. I have the night shift today."

"Can I have some water?"

"Of course." The woman helped Roy to drink. "May I ask, who that Maes is…?"

"He… he was my best friend." Despite of his best will Roy felt tears gathering in his eyes. "He passed away just recently."

"Oh! I'm so sorry…" The nurse gasped. "Forgive me, I didn't want to…"

"It's all right…" But the man's voice hitched with a sob. When the nurse hugged him hesitantly, Roy simply forgot about everything and hugged back. His whole body shook from crying.

End of chapter 1

**Technical note**: I browsed through about half a dozen medical sites to learn about concussion blindness. If it still doesn't seem right, blame it on the fact that my mother tongue is not English. And I'm also aware of the fact that a car can't blow up so quickly. But hey, it always works in the Hollywood super productions! –OKami

Author's note: Six chapter is already written from this story, so there WILL be updates. But our beta is quite busy with her own life, school, work, whatever, so it's not sure, when we can update. Be patient. Thank you and have fun!

Author's note 2: No matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn't get the format of the text right. So apologies if it's a little confusing here and there.


	2. Take Me Home

**Disclaimer**: See chapter 1   
**Beta**: fireun (THANK YOU!!))   
**Rating**: Chapter 2 is rated PG. Highest rate will be NC-17   
**Warnings**: for chapter 2: a little bit of angst, some fluff   
**OKami's note**: giggle Lenihan and I have clearly fixed roles now in the writing process. She writes the dreams, I do the smut. I believe, we both do it excellently.   
**Lenihan's note**: Me likes the dreams. I wouldn't be of any help in the smut anyway. I think. Oh well. Enjoy it.

Chapter 2: Take Me Home

_I tried, I tried to be positive   
__You're a fighter, so fight, wake up and live   
_(Sweetbox: Everything's gonna be all right)

"So here's the lazy guy!"

Fury looked up from the thick book he was reading and laughed.

"Havoc! Good morning. What brought you here?"

"I fetched your glasses, since they were ready and I thought you might need them. Here." The tall soldier pulled a chair to his comrade's bed and sat down. "How're you feeling?"

"Very well, thanks. I was really lucky. Save a few small bruises, I'm absolutely intact. There aren't any signs of a concussion or internal damage so tomorrow I can go back to work."

"And how's the colonel?" Fear and worry filled the blond soldier's voice.

Fury sighed and looked away.

"Considering his moderate concussion, quite well. His bruises and his torn skin will heal soon but... the doctors say... they can't predict yet if his sight will return at all. They gave him one month... after that he'll be released from duty. He's kind of depressed and still somewhat disoriented as an aftereffect of the concussion." Fury drew his hands around himself and his eyes filled with tears. "I feel responsible for his state... he tried to protect me... and now it is possible that... that..."

"Heeey..." Havoc reached out and ruffled the short, thick black hair. "It's not your fault and you know it." He smiled on the small soldier and stood up. "I'll go to take a peek on the colonel. I have to go back to the office soon, but Hawkeye promised that she'll visit you too. If you're lucky, she doesn't know that you're well and she'll bring you cookies." The tall guy winked and left. Fury wiped his tears away and returned his attention to the book.

The door opened and someone entered his room. "Yo, colonel!" his loyal subordinate, second lieutenant Havoc, said jovially. "I heard you were lying here. How's everything?"

Mustang did not react. He simply laid there on his back and stared up to where a white ceiling ought to be. He could feel that Havoc threw a concerned glance at him.

"Oh dear," the blond man said. "I believe sergeant major Fury was right then." There was a scraping sound of a chair being pulled across the floor. The noise grated Mustang's ears and he winced inwardly. As Havoc drew closer, Roy's nose caught the scent of nicotine that always identified anyone who smoked.

"I'm sorry about the accident, sir," Havoc told him. "We don't know what motives the guy who did this had and it's a bit hard to question him, since he burned to ashes. I'm sure that if ashes could burn as well, they would have been. We presume he's just pyromaniac, but we're still trying to find out if this isn't possibly an attack on the military."

There was a long pause in which neither of them spoke. Mustang could feel that the blond man was ill at ease with this silence, but he didn't care.

"That's not a very good topic to talk about, is it?" Havoc laughed ruefully. "Oh, lieutenant Hawkeye said she would come here as well to visit you. She's taken over your job at the moment, but I think we will all feel better when you're back again."

_If I ever come back again_, Mustang thought bitterly, remembering the conversation between the doctor and Fury. Although they hadn't said it openly, he knew what would happen if he didn't get his vision back. There would be a nice ceremony, in which his courage and good will would be discussed and then he would shake hands with the Fuhrer and being sent home.

"I'd better go, I think. People are waiting, you know." The cheerful lieutenant rose, placed the chair back and looked down at the pale face of Mustang. "Get better soon, colonel," he said before leaving.

Roy didn't care. The whole world was up against him.

* * *

The rain drummed persistently on the windowpanes. The afternoon was sad and boring; work was a bitch and the officers all felt that gnawing, dull ache the colonel's absence left in the room.

Breda was munching on a doughnut even though it wasn't approved to eat in the office. Havoc sat by the window, gazing out into the soaked, grey world. Farman busied himself with making a chain from paperclips. And the young Fury had sneaked up to the colonel's desk unnoticed and was now half-lying on the wide table, sometimes sighing out.

The two Elrics were present as well; since Mustang wasn't there, there were no assignments either. It's true that the colonel allowed them to go on their own way in times like these; but they silently agreed to stay. Both boys were worried, even if Ed never said that openly. As a disguise, he often went to the library but today he wasn't in the mood. Five days passed since the accident and colonel Mustang still refused to talk to any of them.

The small-framed alchemist sat with Breda now, scribbling arrays and alchemical calculations on a piece of paper. Al had settled down in the corner, like the picture of calmness; but waves of worry and sadness rippled around him.

The door opened and Lieutenant Hawkeye stepped in, followed by the loyal Black Hayate. In normal occasions, the guys would have at least tried to look like they were working but now they just blinked up, greeted the blonde woman and continued what they were doing.

Black Hayate went to Mustang's desk and sniffled around. Then, he stood on two legs, resting his paws on Fury's thigh and looked up on the small soldier as if to ask "Where's the fire-smelling guy?"

The sergeant major leaned down and ruffled the dog's fur.

"I know. We miss him too."

"How's the colonel doing, Lieutenant?" Farman asked, tossing the chain aside. It was at least three meters long already.

Hawkeye settled down behind her desk and leaned on her elbows. Her pretty face held a distant, sad expression, which was quite unusual for her; the blonde gunwoman always had control on her emotions.

"He's withering," she sighed. "He doesn't talk much; he's not interested in anything, just lays there. His eyes are open but they're dim. He lost his faith."

"'Ts not a wonder," Ed mumbled. "Every day, doctors check on him and all they can say is "still no improvement"."

Fury winced. He could imagine it all too well.

"He's in the worst place possible," Hawkeye continued. "He gets excellent medical support of course, but they can't tend to his soul. The colonel needs some distraction, some company."

"And if we could get him somebody, who'll take care of him?" Al mentioned timidly. "A nurse perhaps? He could be home then and he'd have company."

"That would be great, young Elric," Farman nodded. "But the military can't afford paying for that. And even if we tried to gather the money, we couldn't do that for long."

"But the colonel has to get out," Havoc objected quietly. "He'll crack if nothing happens."

"We have to find somebody, who's qualified and cost as little as possible," Ed summarized. "Anyone got suggestions?"

Silence. The officers looked at each other, each hoping that the other might say something. After a minute had passed like this, Fury cleared his throat. Everybody looked at him and the small soldier blushed deeply.

"Err... I... I could... take care of the colonel. I have medical qualifications and... my father went blind, when I was eight years old. I spent most of my childhood nursing him. And besides..." he looked away and clenched his fists determined, "I owe it to the colonel. He saved me that day. This is the least I can do to repay him, even a little."

"Sergeant major Fury!" Al clapped his hands, hope clearly vibrating in his voice.

"You'd do that, really?" Ed jumped up and was practically bouncing up and down like a kid he actually was.

"Fury, you're a treasure!" Havoc exclaimed and Farman was smiling warmly at the small soldier. "That would be very generous indeed."

"I'll arrange everything!" Hawkeye sounded uncharacteristically enthusiastic. "Leave it up to me."

* * *

He cursed the blackness which had so suddenly overwhelmed him, causing him to lose all sense of time. Day and night had merged into one; they were no longer different for the blind colonel. He would sometimes ask what time it was and then count quietly on until he fell asleep again.

His dreams were the only times he could see again, haunting him like a malicious reminder of how it was when he had his sight. The dreams were always about his lover, Maes Hughes, who blamed him for not being able to keep him alive. No matter what he tried, he looked always at an accusatory glare on that handsome face.

He would wake up trembling, sweating; he even caught himself crying. There was no comfort in his gloomy world that could ease the pain in his heart, and for all he knew there was never going to be any more comfort in his world.

He heard the door to open and Roy nearly cursed aloud. He was fed up with visitors, everybody trying to cheer him up. Hadn't they realized that he does not need their pity? All he needed was his eyesight so that he could go back to work. _This is the end_, Mustang noted with bitter resignation; he even missed work.

"Good afternoon... colonel Mustang."

Roy's eyes widened and he pushed himself up into a sitting position. That voice! No, anything but that...

"Mrs. Hughes..." His throat felt like desert sand. "What... what brought you here?"

"I read in the papers about what happened and I thought I should visit you." Gracia's voice was warm and kind as always. "I hope I'm not disturbing."

"N... no, of course not." Talking felt rough but he just couldn't pull the same stunt on his best friend's widow that he did with his subordinates. Gracia was an angel and Roy never was angry with her. Okay, only once for maybe five minutes.

"I brought you some apple pie," he heard the woman again. "I know you like it."

The fine scent of cinnamon and sugar filled the air; Gracia probably baked it that morning. Roy simply didn't get it. Why was she so calm, so kind? She should be angry, just as accusing as Maes was in those dreams...

"I'm sorry."

"I beg your pardon?" Gracia turned to the colonel with a surprised look. The black-haired man was sitting on the bed as pale as a sheet; his clenched fists trembling. "Colonel, are you all right?"

"Mrs. Hughes... I'm sorry." Roy was struggling to sound even. "It is my fault entirely. I couldn't... I couldn't protect him..."

The young widow understood it perfectly. She sat down on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"It's not your fault. Stop thinking like this. He was your best friend, and I'm sure he wouldn't want you to feel guilty. You hear me, colonel? Maes knew perfectly well what he was doing; he was willing to take the risk. If his researches helped you... do you want to just give up and throw away the information he gathered?"

"But... but I'm blind! I can't do anything!"

Gracia straightened and she continued on a firm voice.

"My husband's best friend can't be such a weakling. If you give up, if you don't want to get better, you won't get better. Come on, colonel, stand up and fight. Or do you want to betray Maes?"

Roy remained silent for a while. When he spoke up, his voice was quiet, timid even.

"I... I use to dream of him. He always tells me that I failed him."

Gracia smiled a little.

"That's not Maes then. That's your conscience. It tells you that you should raise your head and keep going. If you give up, if you forget about him, that would be betrayal indeed, but I don't think you could do that. You were as close as brothers. And I'm sure that you'll get better. Just believe in it strongly. Like you always believed in Maes. Like he believed in you."

The tender words worked like magic; the darkness in Roy's soul stirred, lifting a little and he slowly understood. He was so caught up in feeling sorry for himself that he forgot about the most important person in his life: Maes Hughes. The colonel knew him well; Gracia was right. Hughes wouldn't want him to stop, to give up; once, he even beat up Roy when he had tried.

Tears gathered in the black eyes.

"I... I was behaving like an idiot," Roy said with a small smile. "Thank you so much for reminding me of my duties."

"You're welcome," the kind response came. "Oh, and before I forget..." Gracia took the man's hand and placed something in it.

"What is it?" Roy wondered aloud.

"A piece of chocolate. Erysia sent it to you that you'll get better."

"Oh..." The colonel's throat clenched. "Tell her that I really appreciate her gift and I'll try to get well soon."

Gracia stayed for another twenty minutes. They talked about Erysia and about the news in Central City. And when the woman left, Roy wrapped out the tiny chocolate; and as it melted on his tongue, he noted, how incredibly sweet and delicious it was.

* * *

Sand.

Desert.

And a vast wind twirling around him, picking at that yellowish brown material to throw it up high in the air. The sandstorm was immense, thick and blocking his view. It tore at his shirt and trousers, cutting deeply into his skin. He tried to shield his eyes, but no matter what he did, small particles always found a way to his face.

It was strange. He could see, yet he was blind. He could hear, yet he was deaf. The only sense untroubled by such a contradiction was what he felt. The pain at his hands, arms, legs and face were a real agony. The pain in his heart, however, beat it all.

Mustang took a step forward. It seemed as if his leg was made out of lead. He had to fight against the wind to take each step, to walk on. But the wind was strong, stronger than he had expected and the battle was more than he could handle.

The black-haired colonel could vaguely hear someone calling his name. He turned his head around, trying to find the person who was attempting to catch his attention. "Roy... Roy... Lis... me, Roy..."

Mustang gritted his teeth and took another step forward. "Where are you?" he called out above the noise. "Who are you?"

"You know me, Roy," the voice came to him on the gusts of the wind. Mustang frowned and peered through the thick haze of sand. He froze when he spotted the familiar figure of Hughes. "Roy," Hughes smiled.

"Hughes..." It came out as a gasp.

The silhouette beckoned him to come closer and again, the brave alchemist fought against the wind for every step he took. "Look up at me and say that you love me, Roy," Hughes whispered. "Can you look me straight in the eye and say that you love me after you failed me? How can you love me when you've let me die?"

Mustang's will faltered as guilt and desperation filled his heart and mind. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"You failed me, Roy. You failed me. You failed me." The words echoed through the air, hitting the wound in his heart over and over again. Just as he wanted to recoil from his best friend and lover, he remembered the warm and kind words of Gracia.

Mustang lifted his head defiantly.

"You are not the Hughes I've known and loved," he spat from between clenched teeth. "You are not the real Hughes. Maes Hughes would never say that to me! He would never say that I failed him!"

The storm was suddenly gone and a gentle breeze blowed away the last of sand. Instead, he found himself on a grass field, where he and Hughes had come often when they were younger. A ghostly hand raised and brushed away the dust from his cheeks and forehead.

"You took your sweet time to get over feeling guilty, didn't you?" a gentle, yet familiar voice said.

"I'm sorry," Mustang choked as tears gathered in his black eyes. "I didn't realize it until this afternoon..."

"No need to apologize, Roy." Two green eyes sparkled from behind slim-framed glasses. "You needed your time." A tender stroke over his face. Mustang closed his eyes, then opened them again to look up at the man before him.

"I... I love you, Maes," he whispered. "I always did and I always will." His hand enfolded itself around the warm hand of Hughes. "I just wish you could be with me."

"I know, Roy," Maes Hughes smiled. "I know. Now, be a good boy and listen to Gracia. Don't give up, no matter what happens. If you become a weakling, I will personally come back from the dead to beat you up."

"Just like the last time," Mustang said with a wan little smile.

"Yes, just like the last time," Hughes grinned. Then he bent forward to place a light kiss on Mustang's lips. "Farewell, Roy."

The Alchemist bit on his lip and nodded. "Farewell, Maes. I'll miss you, but... I'll never forget you. And I won't give up."

"That's my boy."

* * *

Anxiously, Fury looked up at the white building. Lieutenant Hawkeye had granted him the morning off to prepare Mustang for going back home. The problem, however, was that Fury had no idea how to break the news to Roy nor did he have the courage to say it.

_What the hell have I done? I'm going to look after the colonel – colonel Mustang of all people! Certainly, I am the only one fit for this job and it would surely be better than some nurse who doesn't know the colonel. But... can I really do this? Can I really live together with the colonel?_

The answer was simple. He had to. Whether he could or not was beside the point. Mustang had saved his life; now it was time to do something in return. Equivalent trade according to alchemists. It was _his_ task to make sure that things would get better for Mustang.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the hospital and found his way through the long halls – something which he could do almost blindly. Fury grimaced at the bad pun. This wasn't exactly the right time to make jokes about that, mental or otherwise.

Room 224 was silent as it had been from the first day Mustang lay there. Fury pushed the white door carefully open and glanced inside.

Roy Mustang lay on his bed, his eyes closed and still deeply asleep.

Fury's heart filled with tenderness and he silently walked closer to the black-haired man. "Colonel?" he asked softly, putting one hand on the alchemist's shoulders. "Colonel, it's me, sergeant major Fury."

Black, dull eyes fluttered open. "I've got some good news, Colonel," Fury told him. There was no reaction, which made the small soldier rather nervous. "We believe that the hospital isn't doing you any good, sir, and that a change of scene might help you to get better." Still no response. Fury gathered all his courage and asked that one question which had been burning in his heart from the moment he had come up with it. "Could I take you home, sir?"

A pause. Then Roy turned his head to where Fury's voice had come from and there was hope and eagerness being displayed on that handsome face. When he spoke, his voice wasn't as dead and emotionless like it had been for the last few days, but was instead young and vigourous, just as it should be.

"That would be a very good idea, sergeant major," the blind colonel smiled.

end of chapter 2


	3. Unfamiliar Ceiling

**Disclaimer**: See chapter 1  
**Rating**: Chapter 3 is rated, uh, well, a PG-13 minus. Highest rate will be NC-17  
**Warnings**: for chapter 3: some delicate lemon scent; depression on Roy's part (as usual)  
**OKami's note**: Wonderful ideas again. I draw, Lenihan thinks, both of us give our best in writing. This is how life should be. It would be much less troublesome.  
**Lenihan's note**: I did the smut this time! congratulates herself I'm not very good at smut, OKami's much better at it. But it's very light smut, so... winks Even I can do it. Yay for mission "Cheer up Colonel Mustang".

Chapter 3: Unfamiliar Ceiling

_There is the sun and moon,  
__They sing their own sweet tune,  
__Watch them when dawn is due,  
__Sharing one space.  
(_Al Jarreau - Moonlightning)

The car stopped in front of the house of colonel Roy Mustang. Fury permitted himself to take a quick peek at it before he opened the door to help Mustang out of the car. He smiled when he saw the fields of grass, only slightly adorned with two pots of plants to either side of the door. Clearly, the famous Flame Alchemist did not care much about gardening.

"We're there," he said quietly to the black-haired man when he opened the door. Mustang grunted slightly, trying to move around, but the thick layers of clothes hindered him in his movements and Fury stretched out his hands to support him. The smile broadened when he thought back of the discussion all those clothes had caused.

"_I am not ill, sergeant major," Mustang declared hotly. "I don't need to be wrapped up in all those garments like some fragile, sick child. I've got a concussion, not the flu."_

"_I'm sorry, sir, but that's what the doctors have ordered me," Fury managed to say neutrally, although his heart nearly burst from happiness. If the colonel was prepared to argue about some clothes, he was definitely getting better! Fury knew Mustang wouldn't have cared about it before._

"_To hell with doctors," Mustang spat. "I am not going to walk around like one big ball of clothes, sergeant major. I order you to ignore those comments."_

_Yes, colonel Mustang was definitely getting better if he started to say things like that. "No, sir. The doctors were quite explicit about it. If you refuse this, sir, then we have to wait for the weather to clear, which might take several days."_

_Mustang mulled that over. Then, with a sulky expression on his face, he spread his arms. "Fine," he grumbled. "Go ahead. Put on all those clothes."_

_Fury had to suppress the urge to laugh. This was not the proper time for that. But colonel Mustang did look quite adorable when he pouted..._

"Where's that damned key?" Mustang muttered as he searched in his pockets for the key.

"Ah... sir? I've got the key." At the questioning gaze that was more or less directed to him, Fury explained, "The key had fallen out of your pocket during the accident. Lieutenant Hawkeye collected everything afterwards and when she heard you were going back home, she gave the key to me." He fished the key out of his pocket and opened the door. "There. Let's go quickly inside. I think it's going to rain soon."

The house was scrupulous clean. Unlike the attitude of laziness and chaotic he often showed to his crew during work, the inside of his house proved that Mustang was in reality quite the opposite. The hall alone was already well organized with one place destined for all the shoes and a rack for all the coats. A quick glance towards the living room told him that it was just as organized. The small soldier caught a glimpse of something big and black too – a _piano_? Could the colonel play piano as well? Wow...

Mustang fought with his coat, trying to unbutton it. Fury moved over to him to lend him a hand. The colonel's arms fell limply beside his body when he noticed the help and he let himself obediently being peeled out of all the garments.

Fury's elation switched over to a sudden nervousness when he realized he had actually no idea how to behave himself, what to do and all that kind of things. He watched how Mustang slowly found his way to the living room, one hand using to support him, the other for searching touches.

"Um... sir? Would you like something warm to drink?"

Mustang paused for a moment then nodded. "Coffee would be nice."

"Coffee will be on its way," Fury said as cheerful as possible to lighten up the air, but the taller man didn't hear him. Sighing inwardly, the sergeant major moved to the kitchen. Just like with the hall, everything looked clean and tidy here as well, with the fridge and all the other food supplies in one place and the scullery, plates and the like stacked up at the other side. There was one small table with a single chair and several books lay about. Apparently, the colonel was not as tidy as he first thought.

Fury put on a kettle of water and began to collect the books. With a sharp pang, he realized the colonel might never be able to read them ever again, but he pushed that feeling firmly away. It was a temporary blindness, it would be better soon.

"Here, your cup of coffee, sir. You always drink it black, right?"

"Hm."

Fury looked around. Several bookcases filled up the walls. Apparently, Roy Mustang liked to study in his free time. A closer look, however, told him that not _all_ the books were meant for study. His ears took on a reddish glow when his eyes encountered the titles of well-known erotic novels.

"It looks very nice here," he commented to keep a conversation going.

"Hm."

The small man realized his mistake a little too late, but tried to smooth it over with the suggestion, "What would you think of some lunch, sir?" As he walked back to the kitchen again, he clenched his fists. One day, he promised himself, one day, you will be able to see it all again, sir.

To divert his thoughts, he opened the fridge looking for ingredients he could make a nice meal out of. However, he found pretty much nothing. Save of several bottles of beer, a small piece of cheese and some tomatoes, it was empty. And the tomatoes had already grown hair.

Fury carefully took those out – one could never be sure what was in an alchemist's fridge – and got rid of them quickly. Then he paused. He needed to do the groceries now if they wanted to eat and the colonel _had_ to eat something good and substantial. With slight worries, he walked back.

Roy found the armchair and was sitting in it, staring into the nothing with a distant, sad expression. Fury swallowed hard.

"Um, sir? There's nothing in your fridge, so I have to go out for a while to shop... will you be all right?"

"Sure, sure," Roy waved a hand dismissingly. "I won't get out of this chair until you return."

The small soldier hung his head. Now, _that_ lasted short, the livelier mood.

"Well then, I'm off, sir. It won't take more than twenty minutes."

Fury fetched his umbrella and walked out into the rain. It was a pain to see his superior like this and he felt like there would be a weight put on his shoulders.

Roy sipped his coffee slowly. It was hot like liquid fire and as bitter as his life. The colonel smirked sadly. He didn't want to be so passive and grumpy; he really didn't mean to depress Fury too, but... That goddamned rain always ruined his mood. Not just because it rendered him powerless, but it brought a chill into his bones. Mustang hated the cold.

The coffee had been devoured to the last drop. The man hesitated a little with the cup in his hands then stood up. Very carefully – he assumed the sergeant major would get a heart attack if he found his superior with more bruises or broken bones – he began to make his way towards the piano.

It was a little odd, to have such a big instrument in his home; but Mustang liked it and he learned how to play when he was a little child. His mother taught him. By the time he left his parent's house at the age of eighteen to join the military, Roy was quite skilled. So skilled in fact, that he could play some songs even with his eyes closed.

He placed the cup on the top of the piano and settled down on the small chair. He turned up the lid and ran his fingers over the keyboard absent-mindedly. Then, he began to play; first, just accords, parts of the song. His fingers remembered the right moves and the tunes grew bolder and finally turned into a beautiful, sad song.

Fury heard the sound of the piano when he opened the door and as he listened to the melody, practically glued to the spot he stood on, tears gathered in his eyes. How true, that music was the universal language. The song told many things without even the lyrics. There was despair, sadness and longing in it.

When Roy finished the song, Fury cleared his throat.

"I'm back, sir."

Mustang turned to him a little alarmed and his smile was somewhat... apologizing?

"I'm a little out of practice..."

"Then, sir, it is best to continue!" the small soldier exclaimed cheerfully. "I'll make the lunch and you just keep on practicing."

While Fury walked into the kitchen to prepare the meal, the piano's sound rose again. The song was a bit merrier this time.

Maybe one hour later, a very delicious scent began to spread in the air. Roy closed the piano and sniffled.

"Hmm, this smells nice. What is it?" He called out to the kitchen.

"I made schnitzel for lunch, sir. The trimmings are boiled potato; I added some butter and a little parsley to that too."

"That sounds good." The colonel walked to the table and sat down. Fury brought in the dishes and the meal and served the food.

Roy reached for the fork and the knife first; then realized that right now, he couldn't even eat properly. After all, he wasn't able to see his food.

"Allow me, sir." Fury smiled gently and began to cut the meat up for his superior. Roy's embarrassment and anger grew with every second.

"Open up, please." Roy nearly cursed but obeyed the kind order. His pride shattered with every bit of food. Dammit, he wasn't a child who needed to be fed! With the cute nurses in the hospital... that was a different story.

Suddenly, an idea surfaced in his mind. Well, it won't be very elegant, but definitely less humiliating.

He took the napkin and with as much dignity as he could muster, Roy tucked it into his collar.

"Fury, would you be so kind to cut all the meat up?"

"Of course, sir... Here, ready."

"Thank you," the colonel nodded and picked up a piece with his fingers. "You're surely hungry too," he explained "so I don't want to hinder you anymore. Just eat."

Fury watched the older man, as he continued eating, using his long, skillful fingers. He felt sorry that the colonel thought on this – he was so cute with an open mouth, waiting for the food – but such was life. The small soldier was happy that his superior was able to get along with the new circumstances.

"Fury..." the colonel began after some minutes. "You're going to stay here, until I recover, right?"

"Y-yes, sir. I hope I won't be a bother..."

"I don't think so," Roy assured his subordinate. "Where would you like to sleep?"

For a moment, some VERY pleasant images ran through the sergeant major's mind, but he steeled himself.

"I'll sleep on the couch. I can sleep nearly anywhere, so that will do just fine."

"All right. And what's up with your stuff? I mean clothes and such..."

"Lieutenant Havoc promised to bring them over." Fury was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. "That'll be him."

The rest of the afternoon was spent with adjusting the colonel's place for two persons. Then, the small soldier made dinner; they both took their turn in the bathroom and wished good night.

* * *

A playful melody danced through the air. Sweet, cheerful and inviting the tune was. Fury smiled absently as he carried a tray to the living room. There he found colonel Roy Mustang behind the huge black piano, his slim, pale fingers moving lightly over the keys.

"Which song is this?" the small soldier asked when the song had ended. "I don't recognize it."

Mustang smiled. "I would be surprised if you did." His hand caressed the smooth surface of the piano. "I composed it myself when I was younger. It's a special song. Not many people get to hear it." Despite the fact he was blind, Roy managed to give a sly look at his subordinate.

"Why special?" Fury inquired.

"Because..." Roy stretched out the syllables as long as possible. "Because it's a song I only play for those I love." Another sly sideglance. Fury's heart began to beat faster. Could it be... Only played for those he loved. There was no one else here in the house except for him and the colonel.

"S-Sir?"

"Roy, please," the black-haired man drawled as he rose to his feet and slowly shuffled to the smaller man. "It's Roy for friends, Cain." A pale hand ran over his face like it had done before with the piano. "So soft," his superior murmured. "So soft and smooth." The fingers stopped at his lips and Fury had to resist the urge to kiss them – or lick them, playful as he sometimes was. Colonel Mustang was simply trying to see his face with his hands, there was no way that-

A kiss banned all thought. Gentle, tender and far too light to please the inner urges of the small soldier. His breath became deeper and more in gasps and a reddish glow decorated his face. To his disappointment, however, Roy took a step back and turned around.

"I need something from upstairs." A smirk cast in his direction. "I need someone to guide me to there..."

"O-of course, s- I mean, Roy." He took firmly hold of his superior's hand. "Let me show you the way." Gently, he led the blind Alchemist to the second floor. "What was it that you needed? ... Roy?"

Strong arms enfolded themselves around the smaller soldier's waist and another kiss was given on his cheek. "You," Mustang murmured, nuzzling his face in Fury's neck. "I need you." A third kiss, on his ear this time. Fury giggled.

"S-sir... Roy... Not there, that tickles!"

"Tickles, hm? Well then, do you like this better?" The lips moved to his own lips. Fury, feeling bolder than usual, welcomed that gesture with open arms and allowed the charismatic dark man to kiss him deeply, to dip with his tongue inside his mouth and to explore what lay beyond it.

After a while, the kiss broke off and Roy let his hands wander lightly over the white shirt, unbuttoning each button his fingers found. Fury shivered with pleasure and arched his back slightly to expose his bare chest. Roy carefully bent forward and placed his lips on Fury's left nipple, then moved over to the right one.

"Roy..." It came out as a sigh. The older man smirked and pushed him onto that heavenly soft bed...

"Mhmmm... Roy... R-Huh?" With a shock, Fury bolted upright and he gazed confused around. Hot disappointment filled his mouth when he realized he was not together with his superior, but lay instead on the luxurous sofa in the living room. Sunlight already peeped through the curtains, announcing that it was morning.

Fury sighed. He should have known it was just a dream. After all, something like this would never happen in real life, only in his dreams. Besides, Mustang's house didn't have a second floor.

He rolled off the sofa and walked towards the kitchen. He'd better prepare breakfast before colonel Mustang would wake up too.

* * *

When Roy woke up next morning, he noticed the fine scent of toast linger in the air. He sat up and sniffled.

"Fury?"

"I'm here, I'm here!" The cheerful answer came. "Good morning, colonel! The breakfast is ready; it's toast with butter and strawberry jam. Which would you prefer, milk of coffee?"

"Let it be milk," Roy sighed. He heard the small soldier's steps as he entered the room and felt the tray on his lap.

"Enjoy." Fury's voice was full of sunshine and sweetness. Roy briefly pondered on his own smile, but then shrugged mentally and began to eat. The sergeant major continued talking.

"It's a beautiful day, sir. The sky is clear and a soft breeze blows. I fetched the newspaper already; I can read it up to you if you want me to."

"I don't have anything else to do, do I?"

"Ah, sir..." Fury scolded softly. "You're lucky that you're alive. I'm sure your sight will return. Just be patient."

"I'm as patient as I can be, Fury," the taller man remarked sarcastically. "I have my whole life to wait."

The smaller soldier hissed angrily.

"Here. Drink your milk." He handed out the glass. "It does good for the eyes too."

"It doesn't," Roy said calmly. "It does good for the bones, but not for the eyes. And besides, my eyes are all right, the damage was done on my brain. "

"I know, but I had to say something to divert your thoughts!"

The colonel stopped for a heartbeat. Fury sounded so sincere... 'He really worries for me,' Roy thought.

"Fury..."

"Yes, sir?"

"Until you're here, just call me Roy, okay? And please, after I get up, I'd like you to read the papers to me."

"Of course, sir... I mean, Roy."

After he cleared up the breakfast, Roy fetched a clean underwear and went to the bathroom. When Fury returned from the kitchen where he did the dishes, he found his colonel standing in front of the wardrobe clad in nothing more than a pair of white boxers.

The breath caught in the small soldier's throat. Nobody knew about it, but he fell in love with Roy at first sight. He admired the tall, black-haired colonel; for his competence, for his charisma and for his beauty. But he never had the chance to see the man like this. Fury's black eyes wandered lower from the already faded bruise on the shoulders, to the narrow waist and hips and firm buttocks. The colonel's skin was pale and the small soldier got the sudden urge to touch it. He swallowed hard.

"Err... can I help?"

"Yes, help me find something that I can wear. I'm positive there should be a few shirts in the second drawer..."

Fury opened the said drawer and began to leaf through the garments. They were all neatly folded, but smelled like lavender, indicating that they were seldom used. At the bottom of the drawer, Fury found something. A brand new shirt; its packing wasn't even opened. The young man quickly wrapped it out and helped the colonel to take it on. As his hand accidentally came into contact with the bare skin, Fury felt like a tiny lighting would race through him.

"It's soft," Roy wondered. "I don't remember this one. How does it look?"

"It's a very light blue piece. I found it under the others."

"Ah! Now I got it! It was a present from Maes... I mean, Brigadier General Hughes."

"You were good friends, right?" Fury asked softly.

"Best friends," Roy corrected quietly. He ran his fingers through his hair. "When I'll find out, who murdered him..." his fist clenched, "I'll make that person get what he deserves."

Fury's chest tightened as he looked at the colonel's face. The taller man was trying hard not to show his emotions, but from how tense his body was and how he pressed his lips together, Fury could tell his superior's inner turmoil. He slowly placed his hand on Roy's arm.

"Roy... I know how you feel. Loosing a friend is a terrible experience and I can't say anything to make this easier for you but... Please, remember, that we are your friends too. Lieutenant Hawkeye, Havoc, Breda, Officer Farman and I and even the Elrics... we all like you and worry for you. And if you like us too, do us a favor."

"Which would be?"

Fury swallowed a little and blushed.

"Don't get down by the current situation. And recover quickly."

Roy remained silent for a while. Warmth grew in his chest and slowly spread out, chasing away the darkness of depression; maybe not completely but the silent plea of his subordinate definitely lifted his mood. Perhaps... perhaps he's not all alone. He smiled.

"Okay. I'll try."

Fury laughed a little and he threw his hands around the colonel. But in the next second, he backed away with a gasp.

"Oh, I'm sorry...!"

"You don't have to be." Roy waved off. "By the way, what's up with the papers?"

"Ah, yes, immediately!"

end of chapter 3

The beta-ing request is still active! Help us out, please...!


	4. Visits and Worries

**Disclaimer**: See chapter 1  
**Rating**: Chapter 4 is rated PG. Highest rate will be NC-17.  
**Warnings**: for chapter 4: some fluff, lingering lemon scent  
**OKami's note**: I love Fury. I really do. He's so kind and obedient; he does what I ask from him. I need a Fury for my collection of anime-bishonens. (dreamy sigh)

Chapter Four: Visits and Worries

_Been around the world and I, I, I  
__I can't find my baby  
__I don't know when, I don't know why  
__Why he's gone away  
__And I don't know where he can be, my baby  
__But I'm gonna find him  
_(Lisa Stansfield: All around the world)

Warm rays touched his skin. Roy lifted one hand and spread his fingers. The sun must be shining now, warming up Central and its citizens. It was a pity he could not see it. The last sunny day he had seen was at Hughes' funeral.

The thought of his friend stabbed him in his heart, although the pain had become noticeably less now. Mustang doubted that the wound would ever heal, but the most important thing was that he didn't feel guilty anymore for Hughes' death. Gracia – dear, kind Gracia – and the Hughes in his dreams had taken care of that. He hadn't had a single nightmare after that conversation and he was grateful for that as well.

Mustang pushed himself to his feet and walked slowly to the door leading to his garden. He opened it and inhaled the frail fragments of lovely scents deeply. Dew would still cover most of the leaves and petals and birds would hop between the roots in hope to find some nice fat worm or a crust of bread. Thinking about bread, the Alchemist realized his sandwich was still waiting for him on the small table. Sergeant major Fury felt it was his duty to feed the colonel regularly, but Roy had to confess he didn't feel hungry at all. Maybe he'd better feed it to the birds.

Clutching his hand firmly around the sandwich with cheese and cucumber – he absolutely _hated_ cucumber – colonel Mustang stepped into the garden. A cold breeze touched his cheeks and Roy shivered. Maybe it was colder than he had thought after all. He listened for a moment if he could hear Fury's footsteps, but the small man was still busy in the bedroom. Smirking mischievously, the respected colonel lifted the top of his sandwich and began to tear the slice into tiny pieces and spread it through the garden. Then he deftly shoved the parts of cucumber from the cheese, stuffed the cheese in his mouth and crumbled the second slice of bread.

"What do you think you're doing, Roy?" Fury's voice cut sharply through the peaceful chirping of the birds. Mustang started slightly and glanced guiltily over his shoulder.

"The birds were hungry," he exclaimed lamely as he held up the last remnants of his sandwich.

"I can't believe, you're this silly," the smaller soldier fumed. "I didn't make that sandwich for the birds, you know. You have to eat and get your strength back."

Mustang blinked guiltily first, but then an irritation began to build up inside him. He didn't _need_ a caretaker who told him what he had to do and what he had to eat. With an annoyed frown, he began to divide the last bit of bread among the birds and threw it angrily in the garden. "I'm not hungry," he declared loudly, "and I don't need you to tell me what to do and what not."

"Roy, please...!"

The two of them glared at each other – which meant Roy _tried_ to glare at Fury. Then something cold and wet fell in the nape of his neck and Mustang jumped startled. This sudden movement caused a tree to shed a bucket full of water down on the blind colonel. Roy glanced angrily up at his tormentor.

"You stupid..." Fury's laughter distracted him and with hurt dignity, he scowled at the small soldier. "Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm sorry, Roy, but..." The rest of the apology was lost in a helpless laughing. Roy clenched his fists and started to walk towards Fury. However, a low obstacle blocked his path, and with a surprised cry, he fell to the ground.

"Roy!" A voice hovering on the edge of panic rang through the garden and Fury hurried over to him. "Roy, are you alright?" he asked concerned, placing his soft hands on the fallen colonel. "You didn't hurt anything, did you?"

"N-no, I don't think so. I'm just... surprised, that's all. I didn't expect this." With Fury's help, Mustang scrambled back to his feet and the small soldier guided him back inside.

"Let me get you some dry clothes," Fury offered.

"Hmm. Thanks." Mustang began to unbutton his shirt, then stopped. "Fury?"

"Yes, Roy?"

"What do the papers say about today's weather?"

"Err..." A soft rustling of papers. "A nice, sunny day. No rain expected and only a very gentle breeze. It looks like we've got a wonderful day ahead of us. I think Central has seen enough rain for a while."

Mustang smiled. "Good. Now, fetch those clothes. I don't like walking around in wet clothes."

"Yes, s- Roy." The small soldier hurried to the bedroom and opened the wardrobe. As he was looking for a pair of trousers and a fresh shirt, suddenly, he remembered something. He'll have the chance to see the colonel in underpants again. Fury felt his cheeks turning hot. He hated it, but whenever he felt embarrassed or excited, he always blushed and the red glow was like a warning sign on his pale skin. Thank Heavens, that Roy couldn't see him now... Fury slapped himself mentally. That was a very evil thought, to feel happy about the colonel's blindness.

But still... Since the sergeant major moved into Mustang's house, he had wonderful but alarming dreams. In those nightly visions, the tall, handsome soldier came to him, embraced him, touched him, kissed him... and sometimes, they did even more. Fury felt the heat rising in his body as he thought back. In the past one week, his usually controlled body decided to revolt and the small soldier found its demands a bit too strong and too frequent. The mere presence of the Flame Alchemist was a turn-on and sometimes Fury had the distant feeling that either he should get laid soon by this smug bastard or he'd go crazy.

"Fury! I'm freezing here, you know!" The colonel's voice wrenched him back into the reality and he grabbed the garments and hurried back.

"I'm sorry, I got distracted... Here, take these on."

Roy obeyed and the sergeant major helped him gladly, never missing an opportunity to smooth out a wrinkle on the shirt or on the hips of the trousers. When Mustang finished dressing up, the small soldier stepped back and admired the view. Nearly anything looked good on the colonel. Fury sighed quietly.

"Okay, that's better. Now, I have some work to do. We ran out of meat and vegetables so I have to go to the groceries. It'll take about half an hour. Take care, okay?"

"Yesh, Mommy, I'll be a good boy, I promish." Roy mimicked the speech of a kid. He even batted his eyelashes and tried to look as innocent as he could be. Fury thought for a moment, if he should melt because of that cute act of should he get angry because of the "mommy"-part. Finally, he ignored both possibilities.

"That's right, sweetheart. Be a good boy. You could practice a little with the piano or you could listen to the radio too. But don't play with it and please, don't set the house on fire."

"Yesh, Mommy," the colonel played along wholeheartedly. "If I'll be a good boy, will you bring me shweetsh?"

"I'll bake you a cake, okay?" Fury had a hard time sounding serious. The cake was a good idea though. "Goodbye." And he leaned to the taller man and placed a light kiss on his forehead. Then he left in a definite hurry.

Once out on the street, Fury let out a deep sigh. Oh, God, the colonel was so very cute... The small man began to walk, dangling his basket. The sun shone warmly and the fresh breeze carried pleasant scents.

The young sergeant major knew how it felt to be in love. Since he recognized it first time, he never forgot how warm, sweet and intoxicating it is. He had loved a few, who loved him just the same. And a few, who never knew about his feelings; or rejected him.

Being in love with Mustang was like a rollercoaster ride – in one moment, it was strawberry with whipped cream, but in the other, it turned vinegar and black coffee. When he thought about that perhaps Roy would never love him, the world turned darker. And when the colonel smiled at him, the sun began to shine twice as bright.

Fury _needed_ the tall, dark man, both physically and mentally. He wanted to be there, to help him, make him feel better, to chase away the stress and worries. When the accident happened... as the small soldier noticed the blood on the ground, his first thought was that the colonel died. The pain lasted only for a moment but it was sharp and pure.

Would it feel the same, if Roy told him, that he did not wish to get involved with a subordinate? Fury shivered. He had to get the older man into liking him, even if it takes years. Fortunately, the sergeant major was a patient guy.

The small soldier sighed again and opened the butcher-shop's door.

* * *

Roy stared into that black nothingness, his face set in a stunned expression. He could still feel the light kiss burning on his forehead, although he made no attempt to rub it away. Realization came slowly to him. Sergeant major Fury had kissed him. It was a decent kiss, of course, and could be easily explained that it had been all part of their play, like a mother kissing her child goodbye. But still... Didn't he feel something more in that kiss?

He shook his head and found his way to the radio. Mustang listened to gentle music rippling through the room for a few moments, then he turned the radio off again. He simply wasn't in the mood for _that_. Maybe the piano could offer a way to distract himself from what had just happened. Playing on the piano had ever been a way to leave all the worries and problems behind.

Mustang sank down on the chair and let his hands run over the black and white keys before they settled down to play his favorite song. But he quit after the first few chords and his hands rested on the keys again. The kiss distracted him more than he first thought; it was hard to concentrate on anything now.

He stood slowly up and moved to the small hall, completely lost in thought. Today would be a sunny day. Maybe he should take a little walk. He had been locked up inside from the moment the accident had happened. Some fresh air would do good. He could even visit Gracia, if she wasn't too busy. Gracia could help him solving all the problems inside him.

Five minutes later, Mustang was outside. He moved in a slow pace to avoid bumping into other people or tripping over unseen obstacles. He was surprised to find out he could find his best friend's house even in his current condition. Turn left here, walk for five – no, eight – minutes straight, then turn right and then...

His fingers encountered the low wall that surrounded Hughes' house. Suddenly Mustang stopped. Would it be alright to demand some time from Gracia? Surely she had many other things to do than entertaining a blind man. He didn't even buy a present for Erysia.

He was about to turn around and walk away again, when he heard from beside him, "Erysia! Time for lunch!" A short astonished pause, in which he could feel those green eyes looking at him. "Ah, colonel Mustang. I didn't know you were here." The smile on the blond woman's face lay in her words and a warm hand touched his arm.

Mustang recoiled startled from it, then recovered. "I... I'm sorry; I didn't mean to disturb you, Mrs. Hughes. I was just passing by."

"Oh, it's alright. Come in, come in. Would you like a cup of tea? How are you feeling?" Gently, she led him inside the comfortable security of her house. "Please, sit down. I was about to make lunch. Perhaps you would like to have some as well?"

"Ah, no thank you, Mrs. Hughes," he smiled. "Sergeant major Fury might skin me alive if he finds out he has prepared lunch for nothing."

"Sergeant major Fury? You mean that small man wearing glasses? I doubt if he would have the heart to do that, colonel." Gracia laughed. "From what I've heard, he's a very nice and patient man. You are lucky that he looks after you."

Roy thought of the kiss. Was he really lucky that Fury had been selected or had it been the sergeant major's own choice? If it was the last option, then why did the smaller guy want to look after him?

"Here you are, a nice cup of tea. Be careful, it's still hot."

"Ah, thanks, Mrs. Hughes."

"Gracia, okay? You never called me Mrs. Hughes when Maes was still alive."

"Then, call me Roy. After all, it's not even sure if I'll be able to keep my rank as colonel." Mustang smiled resigned and took a sip of the hot liquid. "But as my overly protective caretaker always says, anything is possible, so just hope for the best."

"And he is right as well," Gracia said fiercely. "You shouldn't let yourself get down by such thoughts, Roy."

He laughed. "Alright, I give up. With two people saying that, I have no choice but to listen, right?"

"Yes, you should. Ah, excuse me for a moment; I'll have to make a sandwich for Erysia." Sounds of footsteps departing. Mustang listened to it as he took another sip of his tea before he put the mug down and rose to his feet. It had been quite some time since he had been here. He tried to recall the colors of the living room, of all the small treasures and photos. Hughes was a genius when it came down to taking pictures and for as far as the colonel knew, his friend loved each and every one of them.

Roy suddenly stopped when his hands met the smooth and warm structure of wood. He didn't know there was a table here. Curious, he explored it. There were many framed pictures and even a vase with flowers...

"What is this, Gracia?" he asked surprised. "I feel many photos, but..."

"Those are pictures from Maes," the blond woman replied softly.

Mustang froze. How could he have been so stupid? A finger traced of the glass, knowing now that behind it would be a photo of the man he loved most. "What's on this one?" He was barely able to utter the words.

"That one has you and Maes on it, when you both had entered the military."

"Ah..." The chiming of a clock saved him. "... One o'clock already? I really have to go, sergeant major Fury doesn't know where I am." He placed the photo back to where it belonged, wishing he could look again at that handsome face of Hughes. But that was something reserved for his dreams alone.

He bowed slightly to the blond woman. "Thank you for the tea, Gracia."

"You are welcome, Roy," Gracia smiled. "Are you sure you'll be fine on your own? Erysia and I could take you back home as well, you know."

"No, thank you for the offer," Roy declined. "It seems that I can find my way even blindly from here to my house."

"Come visit us again," Hughes' wife told him when he stood outside. "And you can take sergeant major Fury as well then. I'll make a pie then for you."

_That's right as well,_ Mustang thought. _Fury would also bake a cake._ "I'll let you know when we come, then," he nodded. "Goodbye, Gracia."

"Goodbye and take care of yourself, Roy."

Only on his way back home he realized he had forgotten to ask her about the kiss Fury had given him this morning. Maybe it was better this way. He shouldn't bother her with little problems, after all.

* * *

"Roy? Roy!" Fury shot a frantic look around. Where's the colonel? God, where's the colonel?? Possible answers ran through his mind – some of them quite real, some seeming ridiculous even to him. What happened? Well, it's true, he was chatting a little with the greengrocer lady and he got distracted by that adorable puppy near the park and he had to talk to its owner a few words too but... Okay, the colonel probably got bored being alone. But where did he go? He's blind, for God's sake!

The small soldier leaned on the table and tried to calm down himself. His heart was beating so fast, it nearly broke free from his chest. Okay, the colonel is a reasonable man; he wouldn't run into trouble, would he? Maybe he went to the headquarters. Where's the phone? Fury launched at it and dialed the office's number.

"Central City Military Headquarters, Colonel Mustang's office." Hawkeye's calm voice soothed his inner turmoil but the small soldier's voice trembled as he greeted the woman.

"Good afternoon, Lieutenant Hawkeye, I'm Fury. The colonel... err, disappeared from home... isn't he in...?"

"Disappeared? Didn't he leave a note?"

"No... Do you have an idea, where he could be?"

"Well, maybe he just went for a small walk. He's been locked up inside since the accident. Or... he could have gone to the Hughes house."

"That's possible... I'll phone to Mrs. Hughes to ask if she knows anything."

"All right. And sergeant major..."

"Yes?"

"Colonel Mustang can take care of himself. Don't worry, he's surely all right."

"Aa... Thank you, Lieutenant. Bye."

After five more minutes, Fury was rushing down the streets towards the Hughes residence. He looked up the number in Roy's notebook, which lay next to the phone. Gracia told him that Roy had indeed been there but he left just a minute ago. Fury thanked the information and dashed out to meet Mustang on the way.

Said man was quite surprised, when about hundred pounds of worry launched at him. Fury couldn't contain his feelings; he threw his arms around his colonel and buried his face into his shirt. Roy just stood there for a minute; then he smiled and hugged the small soldier back.

"You bad, bad boy..." Fury sniffed. "Don't ever do this again! You nearly scared Mommy to death!"

Roy laughed embarrassed and put a hand behind his head.

"Eeh, I guess, it was stupid indeed... I'm sorry."

"I was so worried! You didn't even leave a note! I thought something happened to you! Young Edward is kind of right; you're a stupid colonel..."

"So this means I won't get the cake?"

The smaller man blinked up at the wishful face and he couldn't hold back a chuckle.

"You don't deserve it but I don't care. Come, let's go home. Will a chocolate cake be okay?"

"Mmm, chocolate..."

* * *

That weekend, Mrs. Hughes had four guests: a tall, handsome colonel, a small-framed, blushing sergeant major, Warrant officer Farman and Mrs. Young, an old friend of hers. Fury suspected, that the scene was kind of set up by the otherwise angelic Gracia; Farman bore some resemblance to Major Armstrong now, concerning the sparkles. Mrs. Young was adorable and pretty too and she seemed to like the silent soldier.

Erysia was kind of shy around Mustang but she just wouldn't stop squealing in delight, when Fury gave him a piggyback ride. The adults too had a really good time. Farman brought a bottle of delicious wine; Fury made some sweets and Mrs. Young proved to be an excellent cook as well.

The youngest soldier accompanied Gracia in the kitchen to help. The woman smiled on him.

"I'm stunned by your cooking skills. You must give me the recipe of that cinnamon-apple pancake!"

"I'm happy, that everybody likes it." Fury blushed a little but his smile was bright. Gracia patted him on the shoulders.

"You're an excellent caretaker. Roy seems so happy and contented now. Your kindness helps him a great deal. I suppose that's because he likes you and you like him."

The sergeant major blushed like an especially beautiful sundown.

"Mrs. Hughes, I'm just... I'm just doing my job... and it doesn't matter if the colonel likes me or not, he needs some help and..."

"Sure, sure." Gracia's smile was warm and understanding. "I'm sure you don't care but... maybe you should. Roy needs emotional support as well. It's your choice if you give him that or not though. But... If you accept an advice from me... As much as I know colonel Mustang, he rarely loves but those, who manage to earn his friendship, can be sure that he will love them truly and deeply."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes." Fury's voice was quiet and thankful.

Then, it turned late and Mrs. Young headed home. Farman volunteered immediately to escort her on the way and Fury smiled on the older man, as they shook hands. The Warrant officer was almost swooning.

Erysia gave Fury a big hug and made him promise, that he'll visit her soon. As Gracia watched the two soldiers to walk down on the street, arms locked, she smiled knowingly. Somebody, who had his or her fair share of happiness, likes to make others happy as well.

Today was a nice day indeed.

end of chapter 4

Author's note: Wow, Mrs. Young is kind of a nice idea, I guess! Poor Farman needs a woman, who'll love him, takes care of him and feeds him with pie. In case you were wondering: Mrs. Young is a widow, her husband passed away years ago. She's a little younger than Farman and she's kind of ordinary looking but very nice. Oh, and I hope, none of my readers died in sugar overdose... - OKami

BTW... still need a beta. One person volunteered this far, I'll notify her soon, I promise...!


	5. Fine scented steam

**Disclaimer**: see chapter 1   
**Rating**: Chapter 5 is rated PG-13. Highest rate will be NC-17   
**Warnings**: for chapter 5: a nude Roy; made-up past of Fury (okay, and for Roy too)   
**OKami's Note**: Hmm, it's getting closer...   
**Lenihan's Note**: Don't you think they're cute together? ;) I just adore the bath scene... giggles

Chapter 5: Fine Scented Steam

_You keep on denying   
__Who you are and how you're feeling   
__Baby, we're not buying   
__Hon, we saw ya hit the ceiling   
__Face it like a grown up   
__When ya gonna own up   
__That ya got it bad.   
_(Belinda Carlisle: I won't say (I'm in love))

He had another nightmare. He realized that almost immediately. This could not happen in reality and if it did, it would mean reality had become one big nightmare. And he would be stuck within it forever, wandering aimlessly and blindly as he looked for a way to escape the pressing darkness.

There were people there, faceless and nameless and invisible for the black eyes of the colonel. But he could hear them. He could feel their mocking gazes and fingers pointing at him. Hysterical laughter echoed all around him and inside his mind. Gossips buzzed through the room, spreading itself among the population faster than fire. They were ridiculing him and mocked him with his handicap. Roy felt anger building up inside him, but he was powerless against the crowd.

Someone pushed him firmly and Roy stumbled forward. The ground was hard and cold and pain inflamed his body. The crowd laughed hard. "Look at him," they said. "Once a promising young man, but now he has fallen down from the ladder. His luck has left him. He's useless when he's blind, so they removed him from the military. Useless... Useless... Have you hurt yourself, _colonel_? But who cares? You're useless, after all... useless..."

Shame and humiliation filled his heart. They were right, he _was_ useless now. He couldn't even use his alchemy effectively, since that required a target and he couldn't see his target. Defenseless, useless, he had become dependant from others.

But it wasn't his fault! He didn't choose for this life! Why was he punished this way? What had he done? What if he would be blind forever?

Roy began to cry and hot tears trickled down his face. Was there no one willing to help him? Was there anyone who _could_ help him? Where was Fury? Fury could help him. Fury could comfort him. Fury could-

A stone hit him painfully. More stones followed. Roy scrambled to his feet and tried to defend himself. "Don't... Stop! It's not my fault! Stop! Stop it... please. Someone..." Hungry hands seized him and began to tear at his clothing. Roy pushed them away, but there were simply too much of them. "Fu..." He needed help. "Fu..." Help from someone who loved him. "Fury..."

But who was there to help him?

"Cain!!!"

* * *

The colonel bolted upright on his bed, as he screamed for his subordinate. His eyes widened, he was panting heavily and his nightclothes clung to his sweaty skin uncomfortably. 

In the living room, Fury nearly fell off the wide sofa when Roy's cry woke him. The small soldier didn't waste a minute; he ran to the bedroom and fell on his knees next to the bed.

"Roy! What is it, what happened?!" He couldn't stop his shaky hands touching the older man's face, shoulders and arms.

"I... I..." Mustang ran a hand down his face. "I had a nightmare..."

"It's over now, calm down. It's over." Fury murmured reassuringly. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently put his arms around his colonel. Roy as confused as he was, welcomed the soothing touch and hugged back, feeling safer now that he something solid to cling to. The sergeant major's skin smelled nice and his warmth felt good. Mustang calmed down after a few minutes and his mind noted the strange situation.

"Is it your way to comfort everybody?" he asked with a smile. "Not that I mind," he added quickly. He really didn't want to hurt Fury.

"It is the human way to comfort anybody," the small soldier replied confidently. "And besides, I have three younger siblings. Sometimes I spent half an hour calming them down and get them back to sleep."

"You have three siblings? Wow, I didn't know that."

"There are many things that you don't know about me." The sergeant major caressed Roy's hair. "Now, lie back and try to sleep, okay? Do you want me to stay here until you're asleep?"

"You're not my mother," Roy murmured into the pillow a little offended.

"I actually am, remember? Sweet dreams, my lovely." And Fury placed a soft kiss on the older man's cheek.

Roy closed his eyes, but after a minute he reached out for his subordinate.

"Fury..."

"Yes?"

"Do you think that I'll get my vision back...?"

The smaller man stroked the colonel's shoulder.

"Everything is possible, Roy. You just have to believe in God and yourself."

For Mustang, it was enough at the moment.

* * *

"Good morning, Roy!" 

The cheerful voice made the colonel smile.

"Fury, you don't have to bring the breakfast to bed," he scolded his subordinate softly. "I can get up and eat by the table. I'm not sick, just blind."

"Come on, you really deserve some luxury now and then." The small soldier felt his heart leap from joy. It was good when the colonel was able to joke about his current state.

But as he placed the tray on the taller man's lap, Roy grabbed Fury's shirt and pulled him a little closer.

"I wanted to ask before..." He sniffled. "What is this scent? So... warm and fresh at the same time."

"Oh, it is wild-cherry and lemon mixed together. My father was an herbalist and he taught me, how to make simple perfumes."

"Really?" This sounded interesting. And the scent was nice indeed. Roy inhaled deeply. The cherry carried sweetness, but the lemon balanced it with freshness, so it became perfect. It really suited the small soldier. The colonel felt a little giddy. Now he understood why ladies loved perfumes. They were perfect to make men confused.

Fury blushed deeply. If only Roy moved a little closer and kissed his skin...! The smaller man slowly closed his eyes and put his hand on the colonel's which still had a hold on his shirt.

Mustang felt gentle fingers touching his hand and suddenly, he noticed that Fury's breathing became... deeper. Like he would be... enjoying this kind of intimacy?

Thoughts raced in the colonel's mind. Could it be that the silent, kind Fury was really in love with him? And what should he do now? Well, first, he had to know it for sure. He needed a plan.

Roy slowly released the shirt and pulled away.

"You smell pretty," he said with a smile.

"Thank you," Fury replied in kind and he stepped back. His cheeks were burning. "I... I forgot your tea. I'll be back in a moment."

The rest of the day moved on as it was supposed to do. Under the gentle supervision of Fury, Roy even went out for a walk. The sun shone warmly on his face and the soothing presence as well as the fresh, spicy scent of Fury was always around him. The small soldier, however, did not make any other moves towards him like he had done this morning.

That evening, he sat in his usual chair while Fury took care of the dishes. These little actions and sounds calmed Roy down at the end of the day and soothed over the troubles in his mind. Today, however for some reason, they remembered him of his childhood and instead of becoming relaxed, his whole body tensed up until it hurt.

"Is there something wrong, Roy?"

"Hmm? No, I'm fine." He rubbed his shoulder again, but the tension remained. A second hand joined the rubbing and Mustang blinked surprised.

"You should try to relax, Roy. Your muscles have worked themselves up into one big knot and that's what hurts your shoulder most likely. A warm bath will help. Do you want me to prepare a hot bath for you?"

"If you think that's the best thing, please do so." He smiled up to where he thought Fury would be. "After all, you're my mommy now. You said so yourself this morning."

Fury chuckled softly and ticked lightly against his nose. "That's true. Mommy says you should take a bath, so mommy will prepare one. Be a good boy and take off your clothes."

"Yes, mommy," Roy replied in feigned meekness.

Some five minutes later, Mustang sank relieved in the steaming water. Fury was, as always, not far away from him, sitting on a simple wooden chair next to the bath.

"How come you were uptight anyway?" Fury asked in a quiet voice.

Mustang was silent for a few moments. "I'm not sure. When you were doing the dishes... For some reason it brought back memories from when I was a child."

"Childhood memories?" Fury echoed surprised. "Aren't they supposed to make you happy?"

Roy turned his head away. "I guess so." He sighed, a sigh that conveyed an inner sadness and a deep pain.

Fury watched his superior and felt a sharp pang inside him when he heard that sigh. "How did your childhood look like then?" he inquired gently.

"My childhood... My parents were rich, both of them. My mother was the only child of a prosperous noble family and my father comes from a family of relatively good alchemists. Most of them were famous State Alchemists. I grew up in a large estate and I was always surrounded by dozens of servants." His voice trailed off and he stared absently into nothingness.

"That doesn't sound like a bad childhood," the smaller soldier smiled.

"Maybe not... Anyway, I have no siblings, I was their only child. It was alright in the beginning, my mother looked after me and my father worked as a State Alchemist, although he tried to be at home as much as possible. But my mother got an illness and things became a lot less fun after that. She was almost constantly tired and had to rest often. My father was still away for research and other things and there was no one around to play with. I had everything I wanted, but it was a lonely and empty childhood. I didn't like it."

Fury was silent for a long time. "I can imagine that wasn't very nice," he finally said.

Roy smiled. "But that's the past. How was your childhood?"

"Mine? Well, I already told you I had three siblings. I was the oldest. I have two sisters and one brother. I usually looked after them when my mother was gone to the shop. My father was an herbalist, as I told you this morning and he made his own perfumes and aroma oils. My mother owned the shop, however and that left me to look after my siblings. We weren't rich and we lived in a rather small house, but we didn't care, because we always played outside. There were times I wished we had more money, because that was my parents' constant concern. But we always got by, even though we couldn't always get what we wanted."

Roy reached towards Fury and took the smaller soldier's hand. "Money doesn't solve anything. I think you've had a much more pleasant youth than I had."

Fury blushed deeply. "Don't say such things; I'm sure you had fun times as well. Shall I wash your back?"

"More mothering?" Mustang asked with a faint smile.

"Someone has to look after you," Fury joked as he grabbed the sponge and began to move it gently over Roy's back. The colonel relaxed and closed his eyes. He was truly lucky to have Cain Fury to look after him, he was positive of that.

The pain in his shoulders eased, it disappeared nearly completely. The small soldier's skilled hands massaged him gently and Roy couldn't help but enjoying the touch. He let out a deep sigh and he smiled as the steam's fine scent tickled his nose.

"What smells so nice? Some bath oil?"

"Yes, you got it. Eucalyptus, pine, orange and some other oils mixed together for the best effect. Fragrances are powerful," Fury explained seriously. "They help you relax, and some oils even can cure."

"Your father must be a very wise man."

"He is." The proud and loving smile shone through the sergeant major's voice. "He's a good man and a wonderful father. He's persistent too. He's still working, in spite of his illness..."

"Illness...?"

"When I turned eight," the younger soldier sighed "My father developed an eye condition, which soon turned him completely blind. After school, I always had to come home straight to help Mother around the house. She had to work hard for the money. Father felt bad about it. One day, he asked me to help him. He went to his small laboratory and began to work. I helped him measuring the ingredients, and very soon, he was back in the perfume-business. He had a very keen sense of smell. When my little brother turned nine, he took my place next to Father and I got enlisted into the military."

Mustang listened in awe. He had no idea, how interesting Fury's life had been.

"I guess that's why you're so good with housework."

"Yes, Mother usually worked late and I had to cook for the whole family." The small soldier laughed lightly.

"I feel lucky, that you were selected to take care of me. You're kind and qualified. Or, come to think of it, were you the one who volunteered?"

"I, umm..." Fury had a faint suspicion that he shouldn't push this issue but he couldn't stop either, "When we agreed, that you should leave the hospital and come home, I told the others, that I'm able to handle the situation and... here I am. And besides... you practically saved my life that day..." The small soldier kept on caressing the colonel's shoulder absent-mindedly, and he never noticed, that the sponge is in his _other_ hand. "If I remember correctly, the explosion threw us away and you shielded me from the heat. And I guess, somehow, I practically fell on you, so your body prevented me to knock against the wall. Oh, dear, in fact, it is my fault, that you..."

"Stop it." Roy held up his hand. "Don't even try to blame yourself. And that's an order."

"Yes, sir." Fury smiled.

"So it was the guilt that made you volunteer."

"No!" The younger man's body tensed from indignation although, in the next moment, he realized that he just betrayed himself. "Umm, err, I mean, you're a good leader and a good man too and I respect you and all and I couldn't just sit and watch, when I could do something about it..."

"I see, I see. It is nice to know, that somebody actually likes me," Roy snickered. "Would you give me the towel?"

"Certainly." As the colonel stepped out of the tub, Fury closed his eyes. He didn't dare to look at his superior's nude form.

Mustang dried himself up, slipped into pajama bottoms and he put on his thin bathrobe too. The younger man escorted him to the bedroom and once there, he hesitantly released the alchemist's arm.

"Well, goodnight, Roy. Sleep well."

But as he was just about to leave, Roy's voice stopped him.

"Stay. I have to ask you something. Come back here."

They stood now in the middle of the room dimly lit by the moon and the stars.

"Fury..."Roy began, "I could be wrong and don't hesitate to correct me if I am. Forget about my rank, forget about everything, because I have to know the truth and only the truth."

"Yes...?" The sergeant major's voice trembled.

"Are you in love with me?

Silence. The small soldier's heart was beating so fast, it was nearly audible. The colonel knows it. What should he do now? Should he deny the truth? No, that wouldn't be fair.

"Y-yes, I am." Fury breathed finally, blushing hard.

"And what would you like me to do about it?" The voice was calm and inquiring. Fury couldn't guess, is Mustang pleased by the situation or is he disgusted and wants more proof that he could freely hate his subordinate?

Roy's composure was calm and passive; he waited for the other man to speak up.

However, Fury couldn't say anything. He really wanted to, he wanted to say "I want to make love to you" but the words refused to come out. His throat became as dry as desert sand. He opened his mouth to speak but his voice was gone from fear; what if Roy will get angry? The sergeant major could have dealt with physical pain – a slap or fire released by the angered alchemist – but he became terrified as he remembered that the colonel could transfer him and then, he would spend his life without a chance to see the taller man again. Fury was shy and sensitive and those aren't the best characteristics in a world as cruel as the one we're living in.

As a last resort, the small soldier stepped to the colonel and pressed his forehead against his chest.

"Ask me," he whispered barely audibly. "Ask me, because I can't say what I want."

Roy sighed and his hands slid up on Fury's arms to rest on his shoulders.

"Do you want me to take you to bed?"

Fury nodded. A heartbeat later, he added a small "Yes."

End of chapter 5

Author's note: The shortest chapter this far. But I'm sure you don't mind, because in the next one... Well, you'll see! – OKami


	6. Light and heat

**Disclaimer** See chapter 1  
**Rating**: Chapter 6 is rated NC-17. Finally!  
**Warnings**: for chapter 6: juicy, quality m/m SMUT!  
**OKami's note**: This chapter was entirely written by me. I hope everybody will love it as much as I do. The guys proved to be very cooperative. (Thanks. hugs Roy and Fury) 

Chapter six: Light and Heat

_I can't believe this moment's come   
It's so incredible that we're alone   
There's so much to be said and done   
It's impossible not to be overcome.  
Will you forgive me if I feel this way   
Cuz we've just met - tell me that's OK.  
So take this feeling'n make it grow   
Never let it - never let it go   
(Bryan Adams with Sarah McLachlan: Don't let go)_

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We're terribly sorry, but because of the ban put on NC-17 marked stories, this chapter can't be displayed here. But don't be afraid! The sixth chapter with all the juicy, quality male/male smut can be viewed on the following places:

www(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)users(slash)okami(underline)hu(slash)5478.html#cutid1 -- Did I mention how I hate that FFnet decided to get rid of the underline character? His place sucks more and more.

www(dot)deviantart(dot)com(slash)view(slash)12564234(slash)

Enjoy!


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